


I Would Duel Anything For Love

by AuditoryCheesecake



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Adoribull - Freeform, Background Lavellan/Josephine, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, Romantic notions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-29
Updated: 2016-06-29
Packaged: 2018-07-18 23:19:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7335079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuditoryCheesecake/pseuds/AuditoryCheesecake
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inquisitor Lavellan's duel for her love's hand puts Dorian in a thoughtful mood.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Would Duel Anything For Love

Dorian had been laughing all the way from Skyhold. “It’s like something from a song!” He said, bent over the neck of his dracolisk. They were all on the fastest mounts in the stables, riding to Val Royeaux.

The Inquisitor lead them, as always, hair buffeted around her face by the wind, expression set and grim. Bull felt a little bad for this Otranto guy, really. She did look like something out of legend.

If the Boss was a romantic ballad sung under a balcony, then Bull was a filthy tavern song and Cassandra was every Canticle of the Chant of light, played on an oud. Dorian, though. Dorian, riding next to him on the nippiest beast he could find, every ring and buckle glinting in the sunlight, was a triumphant chorus for fifty voices, with gaatlok cannons for percussion.

They’d met a pack of bandits two hours into their ride, and the Boss had filleted a good number of them with her daggers, but Dorian had called lightning out of a cloudless sky, voice clear through the crackle of magic, high and exultant in his power. And the Iron Bull was the lucky bastard who got to fuck him.

“You need to think of something scathing to say when you defeat him,” Dorian proclaimed, nudging his mount closer to the Boss’s. “Perhaps about how foolish he is to interfere with affairs of the heart.”

Lavellan snorted. “It’s a practicality, not a romance novel,” she said, but her cheeks were bright. “You’re acting like you’ve never seen a duel fought before.”

“I’ve seen plenty of duels,” Dorian sniffed. “Fought in plenty too. But they’re always so _boring_ in Tevinter. Oh, you scuffed my shoe while we were dancing, have at thee! You poisoned my favorite uncle, to arms! No, my dear, no one ever fights duels for _love_.”

She actually laughed then. Dorian twirled his moustache, pleased, and dropped back to ride beside Bull again. “Ah, young romance,” he sighed.

“Pretty sure you and the Boss are the same age, Kadan,” Bull chuckled.

 

Lavellan was not an expert swordswoman.

“She looks quite dashing with that rapier, as long as she’s not actually using it,” Dorian commented. He leaned against the wall next to Bull, out of the way of the crowds. “I wonder if we could persuade her to trade the daggers out more often. It would fit the romantic image she’s cultivating.”

“I don’t think she’s touching a rapier again after this.” Bull glanced at him. In the pinkish light of the Orlesian evening, he looked unusually soft. “You’re really into the drama of this, aren’t you?” 

Dorian flushed slightly and shrugged. “Love triumphing despite skill, tradition and common sense? It has an appeal. One gets... notions, if one reads enough of the right trash.”

Bull considered him. “And you’ve got all sort of notions.” Dorian shrugged again and didn’t meet his eyes. It reminded Bull of the night he’d figured out Dorian liked rope as much as he did. “You’ve thought about it,” he pressed. “A knight in shining armor riding in to save you from a fate worse than death.”

“Well that’s rather on the nose, even for you. Taking lessons from Cole?” In the silence that stretched between them, Bull wondered how much Dorian envied Josephine for this. “I figured it out on my own,” Dorian said softly.

“Yeah.” Bull kept watching him. “I ever tell you how much I admire that?”

“I don’t believe you have.” Dorian finally turned to him, incredulous. He searched Bull’s face, probably for signs of a joke. “Go on then, stroke my ego.”

Bull smiled at him. “It’s hard, looking at the stuff you grew up with and realizing it’s not the whole truth. That doing what you think is right means other people will think you’re wrong. More than wrong. You’re pretty fucking brave, Kadan.”

Dorian’s expression quavered and tightened. “Do you know, Cassandra thinks we’re a good match because opposites attract and we balance each other out? And yet you’re describing yourself rather more than you’re describing me.”

Bull tipped Dorian’s chin up with a finger. “Nah, call it equal. For balance.”

Dorian sighed and Bull leaned down to kiss him quickly, just a brush of their lips. “You are a terrible sap,” he accused.

Bull kissed him again. “You like it.”

“Yes,” Dorian smiled at him. “I do.”

“Yeah? You gonna go fight off all my suitors, then?” He stroked Dorian’s jaw with his thumb. “Bet you’d look like a hero from a romance, too.”

Dorian rolled his eyes with an indulgent smile and leaned into Bull’s hand. “Maker, I’d never get anything done if I dueled everyone who flirted with you.” His expression sobered slightly, and he met Bull’s eye straight on. “If you were to acquire a fiance by accident, though, like our dear ambassador, I’d certainly do my level best intervene.”

“Sweet of you,” Bull said. “Can’t imagine the Boss trading my hand in marriage for an alliance, though.”

“I’d duel her first,” Dorian said, in the way he described his fantasies in bed. “Then whichever prince or princess was your betrothed, then every member of their family and Corypheus's archdemon to boot. I’d take up a rapier or other appropriately romantic weapon, and strike down anyone who stood between us.” 

“You say the sweetest things, Kadan,” Bull said, indulgent. 

Dorian’s smile was slow and deep. “I would, you know. I’d never stop you if you left, but if someone took you against your will, I would raise armies to win you back.” 

He meant it, Bull saw, and something jolted inside him. 

Dorian’s smile faltered. “I mean, that’s what I-- I would… why are you looking at me like that?” he demanded.

“You’re a strange one, Kadan.” Bull’s voice sounded odd to his own ears. “Mercenaries don’t make for great damsels in distress. Not worth much in the long run.”

“Bull,” Dorian’s hands covered his. “Amatus, you’re worth the world.” There was no room for dishonesty or doubt in Dorian’s face. “I’ve all these notions, you see, about how one conducts himself when hopelessly in love.”


End file.
